Hanna

Tropical storm Hanna zipped up the eastern seaboard during a weekend we were on the island to pay respects to my passed Aunt, Mary. After cobbling together some gear, namely an antique wet suit akin to a straight jacket, and a 7 foot-ish funboard, we paddled out into the Sunday morning zoo at first point. A classic clean Squibby swell on a warm September day drew a good crowd, mostly driftwood, rising and falling with the 1-2 wave sets. The swell would be short-lived as the storm passed quickly overnight leaving little elbow room for the swells to roam.

There’s something about 1st point that’s very nostalgic, the Island’s Malibu. There are clear parallels between the two, save the obvious differences, namely consistency and a few hundred heads. But...both are long right point breaks, mostly populated by logs, both get crowded quickly, and the waves have little intimidation factor. But surfing in such a crowd is never easy. Usually, the challenge (more akin to a hassle) in an average lineup is the constant positional warfare, resulting in an aggressive, competitive session. But at least the rules under such situations are known. Today the challenge was different. It can be difficult to play when nobody knows what the rules are. But after establishing my own principles, and not taking things too seriously, which is what often happens when infrequent swells such as this grace our shores, it quickly turned into a day to cherish. Perhaps it’s a sign of age, but a relaxing session in fun waves at a classic break, particularly one you can share with your brother, without hassles and egos, is priceless.

Interestingly, swells can be perfect time capsules, establishing a point in time that, through the recounting of a certain swell, even a specific ride, brings one back to that time and perspective in life on that particular day. About 4 years ago, on a cold November afternoon with not another sole in the water, and a healthy head+ swell dumping on this point, I raced down dark glassy walls under a gray sky. Between waves, I pondered the sheer contrast of such natural beauty and energy with the raw ugliness of disease and life decay. Thus, this end of summer swell will be its own capsule. It will be remembered as a swell shared with my brother in the line-up and my young family on the beach. But also, sadly, for the continuous march of time, and the passing of my Aunt Mary who cherished my father so much. Her sass and linguica sandwiches will be missed. Rest in peace.

Linguica Sandwich

Length of linguica, sliced in half, grilled over high heat
Toasted burger roll
Slice of tomato and a leaf or two of lettuce
Thin spread of mayo on roll
Freshly ground black pepper

É terminado, aprecie!